


Whet

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis needs a little somethin’ before he sleeps.





	Whet

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “I just want some good Ignoct frottage (: Pre-established relationship not necessary (but fine). Can be desperate clothed frottage, can be sleepy middle of the night frottage, can be not yet ready for penetration frottage... as long as they are rubbing dicks together in some way I am good” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=7614766#cmt7614766).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

For once, Noctis can’t sleep. He is _tired_ , always is, but not enough to drift off, and every time he’s almost there, he’ll open his eyes and see Ignis’ thin silhouette through the darkness of their hotel room. They finally got one with double beds. They’re spread out enough that Noctis can’t _feel_ Ignis, like he can when they huddle up inside their tents or cram together in cheap motels, and maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe he needs Ignis’ warmth to be comfortable again. The curtains are closed, but they’re not opaque enough to hide Ignis’ handsome features, lax with almost-sleep.

Noctis thinks he would know if Ignis were really unconscious. Ignis is silent, eyes closed without the veil of his glasses, lips slightly parted, and body utterly still, but Noctis is somehow sure he’s still awake. Maybe it’s that weird, nagging feeling that Ignis is always watching over him, never succumbing to sleep until Noctis is already safely gone. 

Thinking about that doesn’t help. Neither is staring at Ignis. It makes his breath come just a tad quicker with the rush of that familiar longing, and his body stirs the more he takes in Ignis’ quiet beauty. He knows he’s lucky. Maybe he’s gone through hell, but at least he still has Ignis, and Ignis is so _perfect_ , so loyal and gorgeous, always there for him, always tempting. He always wants Ignis. But they have so little time to explore that. And he’s not great at expressing it. Noctis finds himself creeping closer beneath the blankets, until his knees are pressing into Ignis’ thighs and he can reach out for Ignis’ face.

He cups Ignis’ cheek. He means to simply stroke back into Ignis’ hair, maybe to test if Ignis really is awake, but before he can stop himself, he’s already leaning forward. He brushes his lips over Ignis’, and he lets the rest of his body fall in line.

He presses against Ignis from head to foot and thrusts that little extra bit forward, grinding his hips into Ignis’ crotch. Ignis’ breath hitches. Noctis wishes they didn’t have to sleep in so many clothes.

He pulls back as Ignis’ eyes peek open, somehow both dilated and alert. He searches Noctis, and Noctis gives him another lingering peck, hips rutting forward again. He can’t help himself. Ignis is so _hot_ , and when they’re lying together like this, alone and safe...

They’re not _really_ alone. It should be no surprise when Ignis quietly warns him, “Noct. We can’t. Not here.”

Noctis just makes an aggravated noise and grinds harder against Ignis’ tenting crotch. He can feel it rising to meet him—Ignis never takes much. As stoic and proper as he seems, he always crumbles easily for Noctis. Noctis is his biggest weakness. Noctis plays that against him, and he stifles a gasp and grits out, “ _Noct_ , we’ll wake the others, and they need their rest.”

“’M not asking for _that_ ,” Noctis mutters. He really wasn’t. He’s too tired for the full thing anyway, and yeah, he doesn’t want to wake up his shield and best friend with an embarrassing round of intimacy. “Just... wanna touch you a bit...”

Ignis’ arm shifts, landing on Noctis’ thigh and slowly, too-sensually running up to capture Noctis’ arm. He drags his tantalizing touch down to Noctis’ wrist, and he holds Noctis’ back, the other hand searching out Noctis’ other side. Noctis allows it but lets his hips keep going, and he presses more soft kisses against Ignis’ face. 

Ignis finally meets him for one. Noctis mewls into it, letting Ignis lick away the noise. He knew that Ignis would give in to him. Ignis always does. And he knows that Ignis _wants him_ as much as he wants Ignis—he can feel it in Ignis’ pants. He rocks them together, and a few thrusts later, Ignis joins in, subtly grinding back into him.

Noctis gives a particularly harsh thrust that knocks the bedposts against the wall, and Ignis instantly freezes. Noctis parts their kiss to mumble, “Sorry,” and go again, but more subdued. The mattress creaks ever so slightly, but once Noctis finds the right angle and the right rhythm, it subsides. He ruts against Ignis as much as the circumstances allow, and Ignis returns the motion, now meeting Noctis’ lazy pecks with tongue and deep, languid kisses that have Noctis moaning into his mouth. It’s hard to hold back. Even when he’s tired. He really, _really_ likes touching Ignis.

But even when Ignis finally relinquishes his grip on Noctis’ wrists, Noctis only wraps his arms around Ignis’ middle. He doesn’t take any more liberties. He knows that if he starts, he’ll want to explore beneath Ignis’ tailored clothes and trace his supple skin, _feel_ him as much as possible, and beg for more. 

Noctis settles for humping like teenagers, still fully dressed and deliberately quiet. It’s still enough. Noctis finds immense pleasure in the heat between them and Ignis’ mouth on his, the outline of Ignis’ cock rubbing against his. That pleasure builds, until he’s faintly dizzy and knows he’s close.

He kisses Ignis with sudden ferocity when he comes, muffling his groan around Ignis tongue. Ignis seems to sense what’s happening and grabs him—threads long fingers back into his hair and holds him tightly on. Noctis comes in his pants and humps Ignis right through it. It’s still good. _Ignis_ is good. And Noctis is left thoroughly satisfied afterwards, slumping forward onto his sturdy boyfriend. 

Ignis holds onto him and lightly pets his back. He doesn’t ask if Ignis came too. He thinks probably. Ignis has stilled as much as him and seems sated enough. He kisses Noctis’ forehead and whispers, “Sleep.”

Noctis grunts and begrudgingly lets Ignis roll him over. Then Ignis gathers him back up, spooning him, still holding him close. Ignis purrs, “Good night, Noct,” in such a lilting, tender way that it may as well be: _I love you._

Noct mutters, “’Night, Iggy,” and means the same thing.

Then he sleeps, and well.


End file.
